A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid.
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